After the Dundies
by Kuri333
Summary: "She sat up, slowly, and there was a pulsing in her head as a reminder that mixing tequila and beer was never a good idea." Al alternative outcome, right after S02 E01.
1. Chapter 1

Everything was spinning around her. The streets outside the car window, the car itself, Angela's impatient fingers tapping on the wheel. Even that horrible CD of mediocre sax covers in the radio seemed to sum up to her dizziness, while all the excitement of winning the Dundies for the "Whitest Sneakers" was quickly being replaced by nausea.

Pam's two lame attempts for starting a conversation went unnoticed or ignored. During a red light she considered a third one, but Angela's pressed lips and that tapping on the wheel made her clutch her trophy a little tighter and wish for the way to be shorter.

Finally they reached her driveway, and, eager to get out of the car, Pam avoided landing flat on the gravel by some miracle. If Angela heard her stuttered "thanks", Pam never knew. She didn't even wait to see her safe inside.

And now she was alone, pacing hers and Roy's empty house. Did she expect to find him here, after arguing with him outside Chili's? Not really. No, he was probably at one bar or another, getting wasted with the warehouse crowd.

Pam found, to her surprise, that she didn't care either way. Only now she was not sure if she should get to bed or wait for him to come back.

It was strange the way her alcohol-fueled brain was suddenly focusing on some things and pointedly ignoring others. Above it all, the fight. The way she had been annoyed with Roy all day. Was it his fault that watching all those videos of the previous Dundies made her angry at him?

 _Well, yeah!_ Pam nodded to the empty apartment, and instantly regretted the gesture as her head throbbed.

Clumsily, she got herself a glass of water and drunk it in two large gulps. "World's Longest Engagement". _Fuck. Fuck you, Roy. Fuck those Dundies, too!_

Her left hand was still clutching the one Michael gave her just hours ago. Pam looked down at it, and then, with a little difficulty to focus her gaze, at her shoes. So very white.

She chuckled out loud.

 _Best Dundies ever!_

The memory of her own silly happiness made her smile, and all thoughts about Roy seemed to vanish.

She had expected her usual longest engagement award. The usual humiliation. That bitter flavor on her mouth and that sting behind her eyes. But then, why had she gone back after her fight with Roy? If she was convinced she was going to feel even more humiliated because she was alone?

She took a second glass of water.

Because, back then, everything seemed to be preferable to being with Roy.

Because he wouldn't be inside.

Pam looked around. The messy kitchen, with the sink full of dishes waiting for her, always her, to wash them. The mug with their high school logo faded after all the years since they graduated. One abandoned t-shirt hanging from a chair.

Suddenly it all felt suffocating and the nausea overcame her. She barely reached the bathroom in time for the contents of who knew how many margaritas left her. It burned, and afterwards she felt dirty and drained.

Pam took her time to rinse with water, to brush her teeth and even to floss, and even though the nausea was gone, that suffocating feeling was still there. That wet towel abandoned on the floor since the morning shower Roy took. His shampoo. His aftershave.

She turned around quickly, and her foot hit something that clanked loudly against the tiles. She picked up the trophy she hadn't noticed she had taken to the bathroom, and the movement made her feel dizzy again.

 _I need some fresh air._

Quickly, she walked down the small corridor, into the hall, and looked around again. Air. She needed to get outside.

Just as she had needed to get _inside_ after fighting with Roy on the parking lot.

And it hit her.

The fact was that, the reason she went back was because he, a very different he, would be inside instead.

Jim. His smile. His eyebrows raising as she… memories were coming back like a flood. Did she took the microphone and gave a speech? What did she say? No. That feeling of being trapped was not helping.

With a decisive hand, she took the purse she had dropped when she entered the house, and went outside, the door closing with a loud bang.

 _Now what?_

The cool air of the night felt better, but there was still that unsettling feeling. What had the speech been about? She needed to know. And there was just one way to do it.

Fumbling inside her purse, she found her phone; the unread message from Roy went unregistered as she searched through her contacts list. What came first, the J or the K?

The phone rang once, twice, and she was about to hung up when right at the end of the third, he answered.

"Pam?" his voice sounded hoarse, and if she weren't so confused, she might've registered he sounded very sleepy, too.

"Hey, Jim."

"Hey. You ok? Angela dropped you off all right?"

"Yeah," Angela did drop her, didn't she? "I'm ok. It's just… I needed to ask you something."

"Again?" there was laughter in his voice.

"Huh?" _Again?_

At the other side, Jim chuckled. "You said you wanted to ask me something, when we were leaving Chili's. Only you never did."

She thought about it for a minute but couldn't remember. "Really?"

"Pam… are you home?" she heard movements on the other side.

"Yeah… no…"

"Where are you? I'm coming over."

"I… I'm just outside my place. I left."

"Why?" more noises and Jim's voice sounded slightly out of breath now. "Is Roy there?"

"No. I don't want him to come home." The statement left her before she could really think about it, but it was true. She didn't want to see him.

"Listen, Pam, I'll be there in 10 minutes, ok? Can you get back in?"

"I don't want to get back in, Jim," unconsciously she stomped her feet on the gravel.

"I don't want you to wait outside either," he retorted.

She was sure she heard an engine being started at Jim's side. "There's a gas station 2 blocks-" she started.

"I know."

"I'll be there."

She didn't wait for his answer, but flipped her phone shut and started walking. What if Roy was driving home right then and he saw her and made her come inside? Pam walked fast, those sneakers being put to good use, while the fresh air seemed to clear her mind a little more.

What was the question she had wanted to ask Jim before? Something to do with the Dundies? No, that didn't seem right. Frustrated, Pam grunted out loud. They had gone out together, and waited for Angela to bring the car. They talked about the writing on the ladies room. She confessed but, of course, he already knew.

And then…

There was something about the Dundies… about _her_ Dundie and Jim. About being drunk and being kicked out?

She was about to ask him, right before getting into Angela's car, and then she saw one of the camera men, badly hidden, so she decided not to ask… not to ask what?!

Again she tried to recreate the events of the night, only to fail and feel stupid and even dizzier. She fell off a chair. Dwight took off his shirt. _Ugh, disgusting!_ Jim helped her. Jim always helped her and that's what made him so special. So important.

But had she fallen before or after receiving her trophy? Somewhat that seemed to be the most important thing to know. That, and the speech, if there indeed had been one. Why was that so very important?

Finally she reached the station, and once inside, she got herself the largest cup of coffee available and very strong mint gum. The coffee was lukewarm and ugly, and combined with the gum it made her feel sick again, but she did not care. She just needed all the help available to focus. To remember.

Feeling awkward, she roamed the three aisles. He had said 10 minutes, how long ago?

"Pam?"

She raised her head so quickly, it hurt again. He was wearing sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, and inexplicably her heart started to beat madly. But this was not the first time her heart did funny things when Jim Halpert was around. Like that time when he asked her about a headache. Or that other time when he left candy at her desk. Or that time when they… kissed?

"Hey, Jim." She said automatically, distracted by this new memory. His lips, her lips, brief, intense. Did she and Jim actually kiss? Was it a real memory or a fantasy? Like one of those fantasies in which she would indulge from time to time, during slow working days?

He strode towards her. "What happened? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She needed to focus. That kiss just had to be a fantasy. Inappropriate and weird, but not real. "Just… so happy to see you." As she realized she was hugging him, she thanked the alcohol still in her system that made her do that without feeling ashamed. But that was inappropriate too.

"Oh… kay… You still drunk then." He said with a chuckle, but hugging her back nonetheless.

"Not really… maybe a bit." She let go, still balancing her cup of coffee and the purse on her shoulder from which the head of the trophy was clearly visible.

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

"Dunno. No, wait. The question." The question was something very different now. _Was there a kiss, Jim? Do I dare to ask this?_

"Right, the question. Do you wanna go somewhere else?"

She shrugged, at a loss of what to do next.

"You sure you don't want me to take you to your place?"

"Sure. Not there. Could we go to your place instead?" _His place, really?_ Part of her brain was yelling this was wrong, but the rest of her seemed to decide not to listen.

He looked at her for ten solid seconds before nodding. "Ok."

They exited the station in silence. Finally he spoke, after the car was back on the road.

"Sorry, Pam, but I have to ask. Did you and Roy have a fight?" he finally spoke.

"Yeah, at the parking lot. When he left during the Dundies." She could hardly remember the words, but the feelings were still fresh. "I guess… it was going to happen, sooner or later."

"That's why you were stealing everybody's drinks?"

"Hey!" she protested. "I was just… borrowing them."

"Aha," he said with a chuckle. "Make sure to return those margaritas to Stanley, then."

"I will, don't worry."

After a moment of silence, Jim spoke again, in a would-be casual tone. "So, your fight with Roy…"

"Yeah?"

"Is it… you know… over? Between you guys?"

She thought for a moment. _Was it over?_

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he said after a moment.

"No. It's ok. You got me thinking, that's all."

"You don't have to answer if-"

"I think it's over," she was surprised at how right this answer sounded. "It's like… it's been over for a while… only, I haven't told him yet."

"Sorry," he muttered, and she turned to stare at him. Was he really sorry?

"It's the only thing I know," she felt she had to explain. "Being with him. It's been almost my entire life."

He nodded, but didn't say a thing.

Pam turned back to look through the window. "That doesn't make it right, though." She said, more to herself, but he nodded in agreement.

A light rain had started to fall and the drops running down the window seemed to mirror her elusive thoughts.

A fight. A speech? A kiss?

"Here we are," he finally said, pulling over in front of a small house.

Suddenly she remembered something.

"Don't you have a roommate?"

"Mark. He's at his girlfriend's tonight."

"Oh." Even though he'd said it as an offhand comment, the fact that they were going to be alone suddenly seemed very important.

"Come on, let's run and maybe we won't get too wet."

They did, and laughing a bit, they entered the small house.

He took her coat and hung it next to the door, as she looked around curiously. The place was tidy enough, and even though it was shared with somebody else, it felt Jim's.

"What can I get you? Water? Coffee? Beer?"

"Ugh, no more alcohol, please." She was not feeling dizzy anymore, but the bitterness in her mouth had not disappeared entirely.

"Fair enough," he chuckled.

"Just water?"

"Coming. Make yourself at home"

Pam sat at the edge of the sofa, feeling a little self-conscious. At the other side of the low partition, Jim was filling two large glasses. She couldn't be sure, but there was something in his demeanor that felt a little off. He didn't seem relaxed, not really.

Finally, he put the glasses on the coffee table, after moving a couple of sport magazines to the side.

"So… you didn't forget you house keys…" he said.

"Nooo. I went inside, had some water. And then… left. After throwing up everything I've had since breakfast."

"Niiice, Beesly," he said with a grimace.

"Spectacular. You should've been there."

He chuckled and she felt a little less awkward, a little more confident.

"I don't remember a lot of what happened tonight."

"Well that's a shame," he said with a side smile. "Cause you've be banned from Chili's for life. You might've wanted to have lasting memories."

"What? Because I was drunk?" She seemed to have a new memory now. Something to do with her driver's license, maybe...

"Was? Aren't you still drunk?"

She smiled sheepishly. "The world has stopped spinning as much."

"Will you remember this in the morning?" He asked, and suddenly he looked grave, so unlike every day's Jim.

"I will. I want to."

"Ok."

She took some water and he mirrored her.

"Can I use your bathroom?" she suddenly blurted out.

"Oh no, a replay Beesly?" He said with mock horror that maybe had some truth in it.

"No! I just had too much water and almost a gallon of coffee."

"Down the hall, door on the left."

She nodded and left. _Was she drunk?_ Not really, not anymore. A very heavy head that was starting to ache, clammy hands, but other than that, she felt strangely lucid. As if it made sense for her to be here.

The image on the mirror was not so composed, so she arranged her hair and her wrinkled shirt, and washed her face. The cool water felt great.

When she returned to the living room, Jim seemed not to have moved.

She took her seat back with a deep sigh.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yeah."

She took her glass of the table, but instead of drinking, she traced the brim. Pam could feel Jim's eyes on her, but he stayed silent.

"Did I give a speech or something like that?" she finally asked.

"Haha, you really don't remember that?"

"So I did?"

"You wrestled the mic out of Michael's hands!" he laughed.

"What? I didn't! Did I?"

"Almost," he said with a chuckle. "And then you gave this acceptance speech and you thanked God, and your shoes, and… stuff. It was hilarious, in a weird sort of way. I think it's all on tape."

She buried her face in her hands. "Oh God…" her voice came muffled.

"God is perfectly satisfied, I think."

At this she laughed and he joined in.

Trust Jim to make her feel better, always. Just his presence made it all feel better. Easier. So unlike the atmosphere at her place. So unlike Roy.

"Jim," she looked at him, taking in the t-shirt, the traces of stubble and finally his eyes, fixed on her.

"Pam," he said, sobering up a little, grin still in place.

"I think… I kissed you?" she forced herself to keep on looking at him, even though she felt heat up her cheeks. He, on the other hand, looked at his knees, his hand messing with his hair.

"Yeah, you kinda did."

It hadn't been a fantasy, then. The feeling of his lips on her, and her body pressed against his, even if it was so brief and rushed.

"You were feeling pretty celebratory, I guess." He added, finally meeting her eyes.

"I was," she nodded. "Also…" she took a deep breath, "also I've wanted to do that for a while. Kiss you."

His eyes opened wide, "did you?"

"Yeah…" she was leaning towards him, and he was mirroring her. She felt his hand on her knee, her own clutching his t-shirt, and then.

"Wait, Pam."

"What," his mouth was so close to hers she couldn't really focus on what he was saying.

"Wait." His hand cupped her cheek, but instead of drawing her closer, he kept her at a distance. A very small distance and yet she felt as if ice cold water was being poured on her head. Jim was rejecting her.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't-" she stuttered, realization making her want to run away. To hide her shame and bury it deep, along with her feelings. But his hand was still there, a finger tracing small circles on her cheek, and she dared looking at his eyes. They were warm and dark. Looking at her with such care, making it felt so familiar and… right.

"Yes you should," he said softly. "I've wanted you to do this for so long, Pam; I don't remember a moment of my life in which I wasn't wishing to kiss you."

"Really? Then…"

"Not like this, though. Not drunk. I want us to be sober. I want you to kiss me and remember it, and not regret it in the morning. You know?"

She nodded, feeling tears forming in the corners of her eyes, but she didn't dare to clean them. She didn't dare to move her hands.

"Oh Pam," he murmured, now finally pulling her towards him, but instead of kissing him, she found herself buried in a warm hug, her nose taking his scent while his hand rubbed her back in slow circles. She sighed, and even though she had just been rejected, there was some odd, small feeling of contentment in her chest.

"Can I stay here?" she finally asked in a hoarse whisper. "With you?"

"For as long as you want," she felt his chest rumble, and sighed again.

The next thing Pam knew, light was hitting her eyes and she was half sitting, half lying on an unfamiliar couch. Her head resting on a very familiar someone.

She sat up, slowly, a pulsing in her head as a reminder that mixing tequila and beer was never a good idea. Next to her, Jim stirred and opened his eyes.

"He-ey," he said softly.

"Hi," she looked at her feet. She had discarded her shoes at some point, but couldn't tell when. And then she looked at her hands. At his long legs stretched in front of him. At the empty glasses on the coffee table. But not at his eyes. She couldn't look at him in the eye.

"How's that hangover?"

She shrugged. "Not that bad."

"I didn't know if I should have woken you up."

"It's fine." her gaze stopped on his knees for a moment, and then his t-shirt, and then the ceiling. "I'm sorry I fell asleep like this."

"It's ok. Nothing to be sorry about." He sounded earnest and maybe she could look at him, but she was so afraid of… of what, really? Her own shame?

"I guess I was too tired."

"Yeah…" he said, and she saw him shift on his seat to face her. "Hey. Is it going to be awkward between us now?"

Finally she dared meet his eyes, and they were so familiar and warm, so typically Jim's, she couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh yeah. Totally. I might not even say hello to you at the office."

"Good to know in advance, I guess."

"Yeah…"

"So…" slowly, he stood up. "Water? Aspirine? Grilled cheese?"

She smiled, a little less enthusiastically. Suddenly it felt as if she was carrying the weight of the world of her shoulders, and it was her fault and nobody else's. As it was her task to fix it all.

"I should go."

"You could stay," he replied.

"Thanks," she managed. "But I just remembered there's something I need to do."

He seemed to shrink a little. "That's what they all say after one night," he smiled the same smile he would use when planning a prank on Dwight.

She gave a small laugh but didn't answer. She didn't really know how to say everything she would need to say eventually.

"See you soon?" she offered instead.

"You know where my desk is."

"I hope I'll remember it," she tried to sound casual. As if this was just their usual banter over a container full of jelly beans.

"You need a ride home?" he asked the obvious.

"Would you?"

"Jump in, Beesly."

The ride felt uncomfortable, both taking turns to avoid the silence. People at the office, the weather, sports. Anything but them and the Dundies. Fortunately they reached her place quickly.

Roy's truck was parked next to the door. Pam wondered if he would be awake, and guessed he most likely wasn't. For better or worse.

"Pam?" Jim spoke after turning off the engine. "You gonna be ok?"

She nodded. It would be difficult, but Jim didn't need to know that.

"I will," she added. "Thanks for the ride and for… you know. Everything."

"Anytime," he gave her half a smile.

She stepped outside and was about to head to the door when suddenly she tapped his window.

"Yeah?" He opened it and leaned towards her.

"I think you should know… I remember everything that happened at your apartment."

He looked at her for a moment. "That's good to know."

"It is. Bye, Jim."


	2. Chapter 2

"Roy?"

"Where have you been?" he appeared from the kitchen, visibly fuming, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand.

"Out," she said mechanically.

"I came back at 6 and you were gone!"

"I stayed with friends." It made no sense to do into details and anger him any further. Not now, at least. And even though there were more important things to think about, she couldn't stop feeling indignant at the thought that he was allowed to come back in the morning while she wasn't.

"And couldn't you at least send me a message? Or reply to mine?" A confusing memory of a text she didn't open assaulted her, threatening to make her feel guilty, so she pushed that to the back of her head.

"Sorry, I wasn't feeling so well-"

"I shouldn't have let you go back in there last night," he grunted.

"Let me? Sorry but you don't get to "let me" do anything!"

"I do, if you're gonna disappear and not even leave a message."

Pam took a deep sigh and counted to ten inside her head. The conversation ahead of her would have been hard enough without him being angry at her to begin with.

"I don't wanna talk about last night," she said.

"Ok fiiine," he turned around, and she head his footsteps and then the creaking of the sofa.

She could leave it like this, of course. Like so many times before. And then go along with her life, back to work and to an old and safe routine. So easy, and, to her throbbing brain, such a nice perspective. To lie down for a couple of hours and then wake up to take out and to leaving it all behind.

But it was as if she had been woken up of what she thought it was a dream, only to find out it had been a nightmare all along.

"Wait, Roy," she managed after a couple of seconds.

"What," he called from the living room.

"We need to talk."

He was sitting, the sandwich now gone, drinking a beer and looking at the game on the TV. "What?"

"We need to talk," Pam repeated.

"Can't that wait, Pammy? To the end of the game?"

"No, it can't."

"I forgive you, ok? Now, could you-?"

Pam took two strides to grab the remote from the sofa's arm, and, after turning off the TV, she stood right in front of it. Maybe out of habit, this would make Roy pay more attention to what she had to say.

"What's the matter with you?"

She took a deep breath. This couldn't turn into a yelling match, because then Roy would yell louder and she would never be able to really tell him.

"Why do I always keep winning the "Longest Engagement" Dundie?" she asked quietly.

"Why- what?" He did not expect anything like this, at all, so much was clear from his slight frown and his open mouth.

"That prize, from the office. I always get "Longest Engagement".

"Well, Michael is an asshole, isn't he?"

"Not the point, Roy."

"Then, what is the point? Can you enlighten me over here?"

"Why aren't we married?"

For a moment he looked confused around. "Well, because. There is always something going on, or money issues, or… you know I want this to be perfect, babe, don't you?"

Right there and then, Pam decided she hated to be called "babe".

"Do you really want to marry me, Roy?"

"Would I've proposed if I didn't?" he snapped.

"That's not an answer. Do you want to be married to me?"

Roy sighed, and finally stood up and left the beer on the table. Pam wondered if she should feel intimidated by his height, or how she knew he was prone to lose his temper. Oddly enough, she didn't. She just wanted it all to be over.

"What's the matter with you? If that Dundie has upset you so much, you shouldn't have stayed last night to get it. I was right!"

She sighed. "It's not about the Dundie! It's about we never getting married."

"You wanna get married, then? Fine! Let's go. Let's get the paperwork out of the way and we can be married in two days."

"No, Roy, it's not about getting married anymore. It's about… it's about…" the words were there, clear as daylight, but it seemed so difficult to say them aloud, now that she was in front of him.

"It's about what, Pam?" His impatience finally did it. The way he was more worried about finishing the discussion so he could go back to his match, and not about her, or her feelings, or why was she suddenly speaking like that.

With Roy it had always been like that, since that very first date when he forgot her. He had always forgotten her, it's become a habit. And both were to blame for that habit, not just him.

"I don't want to marry you anymore, Roy."

"You… what? You just say you wanted to-"

"I don't think you ever wanted to marry me either. For you it was just what you needed to you, in order to keep me from thinking I was wasting my time. And, in the meantime, I was forgetting it's not just a thing you do to check it out of a list. I was forgetting myself."

"Pam, what are you saying?" for the first time, she had the impression he was really listening to her, and it felt so unfamiliar, it made her resolve even stronger. This was the right thing to do.

"It's not right for me to be with you, Roy. I'm sorry."

"What? You breaking up with me?"

"Yeah, I am," she said simply.

"Just because of the wedding thing?"

"Not the wedding thing. It just made me realize this," with her arm she gestured towards the living room, "you and me, that's not what I want."

"What about all those years, Pam? What about all we've gone through together?"

"That's what makes it all more difficult, believe me. But if we keep on this, it'll be just me tolerating things I have just gotten used to, but that I don't really want."

"And what do you want?"

"I don't know yet," she said, fully aware that she was not being honest. There was at least one very precise answer to that question but she needed to put Jim out of his thoughts, away from this conversation. "I wanna do something different, find out what I want. Who I really am."

"And I can't be with you while you find out?" he sounded sad, and it broke Pam's heart the fact that he was not a bad person and she was hurting him for something he was not really guilty of.

"I don't think so."

He looked at her for a long moment, and she took in his childlike eyes, that shadow of a dimple which had been the first thing she had found attractive when she met him, those large hands she had held so many times.

"I should probably go," she finally said.

"Where?"

She shrugged but didn't answer. She noticed how he didn't offer to go and leave her the house. Maybe it was fair, maybe it was the way he really was. She did not care. She didn't want to stay anymore.

Slowly, she dug into her closet for a duffel bag and started putting things inside. Some work clothes, a couple of pictures… she was not leaving forever, that was obvious. She would have to find a place, and then come back to really move out her things. But now, she had no idea what to pack.

"Pam?"

He was standing in the doorway, his eyes were bloodshot.

"Yes?"

"Isn't there a… a chance… for you to reconsider?"

She just shook her head, feeling tears forming behind her eyes. She needed to go, before she would decide to take the easy familiar path once again. With quick movements, she took a handful of underwear to put it inside the bag, and then she closed it, with a decisive gesture.

"I'm really sorry," she said, he head low.

He moved to let her pass, without even trying to touch her. Without pausing, she grabbed her purse and the keys of her car.

The feeling of turning into the driveway was almost like the one of the night before, when she left the house. Clean air, space. Only, this time she had no idea what to do next. Her knees were trembling, her headache seemed to grow stronger, and something entirely different was starting to grow inside her. Fear.

As she drove aimlessly through Scranton, thoughts started to haunt her. It all sounded right in theory. Realizing she had been in an abusive relationship all along and finally gathering the courage to leave it, in order to finally be free and find herself. But in practice, now she was alone, with no place to go, and without the support of a long, solid relationship, albeit an unsatisfactory one. And all for what? For a stupid trophy and a drunken kiss?

The trophy. She looked around the car, even though she knew it wasn't there. With exasperation, she hit the wheel. At some point during the night she had lost it. It was meaningless, a stupid thing really, but it had meant so much at the time. It had caused so many things to happen. It had taken her to Jim.

And that was the one thought, the one plan she didn't want to acknowledge, because she didn't want to run into somebody else's arms, not right after finishing the one relationship in her life. It didn't feel right.

Finally she parked in front of a drugstore. At least she could get something to drink and something for her headache. As she was sipping a coke, she looked through the window to the big motel sign across the street for a long time, before realizing that it was a solution to, at least, one of her problems.

Signing in and getting into a sad, dark, room took her no time at all. She couldn't stay there for long, that was for sure, but at least for some days, until she could get herself an apartment.

For a moment, she considered calling her mom, or even her sister, but she ignored the thought. She didn't want to tell it all, to have to explain and to hear them feeling sorry for her. There would be a time for that, but this wasn't it.

And yet, what to do now? She was running out of excuses, out of things to do. She had to face that other thought.

Funny how easy it was for drunk Pam to call Jim in the middle of the night, and how hard it was now. As if she had done something unforgivable or utterly embarrassing, which in a way she had. But afterwards they had talked. He had said he wanted to kiss her, but not while she was drunk.

Well, she wasn't drunk now. And they needed to talk, to sort out some stuff.

Not allowing herself more time to think about it, she flipped her phone open. The battery was dead, she couldn't tell for how long. Still, this was something she needed to do, before losing the little courage she had left, so she took her keys and went to the car.

It was a miracle she remembered how to get to Jim's house, even though she had to circle the area a couple of times until she found his car, to find the exact house. Pam found herself wishing, for the second time in less than 24 hours, to have a drink. The first time she was looking for oblivion. Now, courage. With a deep sigh she parked and walked the short distance to his front door.

Still, she was there, and somehow she knew that she would be better inside. With him. So she rang.

Less than a minute later, he was opening the door. His smile was somewhere between happy and confused.

"Hi, Pam."

"Hey. Sorry I didn't call… phone died."

"Oh. That explains it," he said, letting her in and beaconing her towards the living room. That same living room she had spent the night in.

"What?"

"I just sent you a couple of messages," he messed with his hair in a gesture Pam recognised as being nervous. "I wanted to make sure you were ok."

"Thanks… I am."

He took a sit and she mirrored him, remembering those were the exact places they took the night before.

"And you forgot your Dundie," he pointed to the coffee table and there it lay, next to the sport magazines.

"There it is! I was wondering where I could have left it." She took it, surprised at her own happiness of having it back.

He grinned at her. "I'll just have to remember to tell Michael how important these awards are."

"No thanks. I am sure this was a one-time thing."

For a moment they stayed silent. Now that she was there, she had no idea what to say or how.

"Do you want something to drink? Or eat?" He finally spoke, and mentally she thanked him for that.

"Didn't you offered me a grilled cheese earlier?"

"That I did." He said, standing up and walking to the kitchen. "And I have to say, mine is the best you're going to eat," he said over the partition.

"I'm so hungry I don't think it would matter."

"You offend me, and my grilled cheese. What kind of guest are you, Beesly?"

She chuckled. "The worst kind, apparently. I kind of invited myself to a sleepover last night."

"Oh yeah, that." From where she was, she could only see his back, but she could have sworn he had gone a little rigid. "And now you're inviting yourself to breakfast."

"Well, you did offer."

"Guilty as charged."

"Thanks, by the way," she said, "… for rescuing me."

"Not a problem."

They fell silent again, as he finished the sandwiches and put them on plates.

"Do you want to eat outside?" he pointed at the small yard at the back. Pam followed him, and they took two chairs, facing the sun.

"So..." Jim finally said. "Everything all right, then?"

Pam sighed. "Well… it depends on the way you look at it. I just… I just left everything I know behind. Roy and I are no longer together, and I'm currently staying at a motel."

"What? Didn't he leave?"

"Well, I was the one who finished it." She felt the reproach in his voice. Even at this last time, it was clear that Jim thought Roy could've done it better.

"Gee Pam. I… I don't know what to say."

"I told you, yesterday. It's been over for a while. Only, I was too much of a chicken to say it aloud."

"I'm glad you did, though. It must have been difficult, but it will get better."

"I hope you're right." Pam sighed. Again, she could leave things the way they were. Thank Jim for the sandwich and, maybe, ask him to borrow his computer so she can look for a place. Or maybe she could look for some courage and say it all, the way she tried to, mere hours ago. He had rejected her the night before, only, it hadn't been a rejection, really. How worse could things get? "I hope you're right because all of this is your fault."

"My… what?" he actually chuckled at this, and she moved her chair a little to better face him.

"Yup. I'm blaming you."

"How?"

"You made me realize how wrong being with Roy was. Not because you said anything, but just… you know, just being you. You are… I don't know. The opposite of him. And you make things feel better. Right."

"Glad to be of service," even though his tone was light, and that made her chuckle, his eyes were fixed on her, deep and solemn.

"Seriously, though," he added. "I'm proud of you."

"It feels right. Only, now I have to make my whole life again. From nothing."

"Not nothing," Jim protested. "You know you can count on me. You know, for heavy lifting and that sort of thing."

She smiled. "I was kinda hoping on that. Cause… right now, you're the only thing that's real in my life. You and the Dundie." At this both laughed. How easy it was for them to hide their own feelings in banter and easy jokes.

"I don't just mean heavy lifting," she added.

"Me neither," he said, his voice hoarse. Slowly, he took her hand on his and now she was glad there was no alcohol on her veins preventing her from feeling and remembering how strong his fingers felt around hers, and how nice it was to feel his thumb tracing circles on her skin. "But I don't want to rush you into doing something you might regret later."

"I don't think I'm gonna regret anything," she said, and for a second time, she leaned forward.

Only this time, he met her halfway. Slowly, cautiously, his lips pressed against her, with such care she felt her knees tremble. His hand cupped her cheek, as he had done the night before, but instead of keeping her away, he draw her closer.

It might have lasted a lifetime, but for Pam it was too soon when Jim pulled away enough for their lips to part, but still resting his forehead on hers.

"Does this make me your rebound?" he asked.

She chuckled. "Definitely."

* * *

 **AN: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I've borrowed the "first date" scene from lalter in season 2 :)**

 **Happy new year 2019!**


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